


how are your lungs?

by fruitwhirl



Series: let the soft animal of your body love what it loves [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, also: heavily influenced by the nbc chuck scene, an "oh my god a bomb's about to go off i have to kiss you RIGHT now"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 20:37:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12896310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitwhirl/pseuds/fruitwhirl
Summary: “Any regrets?”“Just that I didn’t really appreciate the third Die Hard movie as much as I should’ve.”





	how are your lungs?

**Author's Note:**

> listen i got deep in a nbc chuck spiral and i rewatched [this scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CtbchCEhTE4), and had to at least write it for jake/amy. i might end up writing a full-on chuck au for b99 (because rosa is such a casey let's talk about it). 
> 
> title from dodie's "would you be so kind?"

Jake _knew_ there was a reason that he didn’t date doctors. Well, aside from the fact that most hot doctors with nice legs typically don’t want to be romantically involved with a guy who works as a computer consultant at a technology retail chain.

That said, his current predicament isn’t really Becca's fault. It’s all on Amy. And okay, maybe a little on him, too.

He _was_ the one to follow Becca to the shipyards, because Rosa and Amy suspected that his new girlfriend was part of the mob or something, and he _was_ the one who decided to drop his watch—which was bugged—into a nearby bucket of water once the pint-sized blonde started yelling at him about spying on her and illegally imported Portuguese salami, and Jake realizes pretty quickly that this conversation could be incriminating (even if she _wasn’t_ part of the mob, it sure would look like it, even though she definitely isn’t).

So again, it’s really Amy’s fault.

Becca leaves in a huff, not even bothering to take her illegal meat with her, and _Amy_ shows up because she’s always worrying about him, as if he can’t take care of himself—which okay, is a legitimate concern; he once ate just gummy worms for three days straight because that’s all that was in his apartment. But it doesn’t even matter because that guy Yari shows up and starts waving around a gun and yelling at them to surrender.

And now, they’re tied up in a rather small, metal shipping container, because apparently the watch that he threw in the water had a GPS tracking device, so they’re stuck here sitting back to back on the cold steel, with Amy filing away at the their ropes with the pocketknife she keeps in her shoes and the _beep beep_ of the bomb serving as background noise. Oh yeah, there’s a bomb placed just a few feet away from them and Jake is definitely not freaking out, even though if his count is right, they only have just over a minute left before they’re blasted to smithereens.

“Shift forward a little, Peralta,” Amy murmurs, and he knows that if he turned his head, he’d see that her eyebrows would be furrowed—rather adorably—in intense concentration. He must be shaking, because she sighs and explains softly, “Jake, I just need the rope to have a little more tension so I can cut it.”

“General Holt’s gonna be so pissed if he finds out we got blown up because of some salami.”

“We’re going to get out of this.” The words are forceful, but he isn’t sure if it’s directed more towards him or herself. And then, he hears a little noise escape from the back of her throat that sounds a lot like triumph, and then she’s pulling the ropes off of her, off of them, and stands up, offering him a hand. He takes it, grateful, and simultaneously they both move to the ticking clock.

**_0:47_ **

Jake stares at the blinking red numbers, with the hopes that his internal computer (the “Intersect,” those government officials called it—he thinks that it should have been better, like “Nakatomi” or something) kicks in and recognizes the sequence, recognizes the bomb and tells him how to shut it off. But—

“Anything?” He shakes his head, and he glances back at her.

**_0:35_ **

Amy bites her lip, her expression hard. “Jake, I can probably delay the blast by ten seconds or so, but you need to leave right now.”

“I’m not leaving you.” The words are quick and leave his mouth before he can even really register them, but he knows that they’re true. Jake’s honestly not surprised that she’s willing to sacrifice herself, even if he’s not entirely sure if it’s because of professional (she is his handler, after all), or personal (he hopes so) reasons.

“ _Jake_ —”

“Amy, I’m not letting you die alone.”

**_0:17_ **

He guesses that she recognizes the finality in his tone, because her head bobs up and down in the slightest of nods. Her eyes are wide, brimming with wet, and she’s trembling a little—Jake thinks he is, too. The beeping grows faster, and when he peers over, he sees the bright red _0:15._

She tries to smile casually. “Any regrets?”

“Just that I didn’t really appreciate the third _Die Hard_ movie as much as I should’ve.”

Amy laughs, a small, bright tinkling sound that somehow lights up the dark cage they're in, and he thinks that in reality, his one regret is not hearing more of it. He’s sure she could stun just about anyone and probably stop wars with it, if she tried.

**_0:10_ **

“Well, it was nice knowing you, Amy Santiago _.”_

**_0:08_ **

“You too, Peralta.”

**_0:05_ **

“I just wanna say—”

**_0:03_ **

He thinks she’ll never find out what he was going to say, because all of the sudden she surges forward, grasping at his collar, pulling face down to meet hers. It takes him a millisecond to respond, and then he’s wrapping his arms around her waist, palms flat against her back, bringing her closer and closer. They’ve kissed before, but before, it was just quick pecks in front of his coworkers and his best friend to convince them of their fake relationship (Rosa always retching in the background—she called relationships “hell-holes” and repeatedly told him that he and Amy should just sleep together for real). Nothing they’ve done is quite like _this,_ where one of her arms is hooked around his neck, her left hand reaching up to cup his cheek, and it’s all of a flurry of limbs and movement and her tongue sliding against his, both gasping for breath in brief moments of respite. 

He thinks he tastes salt water on her lips.

It’s then that Jake realizes that they’ve been making out for much longer than three seconds, and they definitely should have been ash at this point, or at least ripped-apart chunks of limbs and such (he doesn't really know what it's like to get blown up). Amy apparently becomes aware of this too, because she pulls away slowly, her pupils blown wide as she stares back at him.

“Um—”

“Yeah.”

His hands are still on her hips, and he retracts them quickly.

“I-I’m,” Amy stammers, twisting her fingers. She sucks in a deep breath. “I’m experiencing an uncomfortable moment.”

Jake tries to quell the grin that threatens to form on his lips because it's so _Amy_ , tries a joke. “I’m actually pretty comfortable, right now.”

Even though she rolls her eyes, a pretty common behavior of hers (at least when she’s around him), something has definitely changed. He’s just not sure what it means.

**Author's Note:**

> i might write more in this universe, so let me know your thoughts! 
> 
> check me out at [dmigod](http://dmigod.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
